


Fellow Warriors

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-30
Updated: 2009-10-30
Packaged: 2019-07-02 07:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15791892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Someone is trying to set up Spike and The Groosalugg.





	Fellow Warriors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shylahmask](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=shylahmask).



> oooohkay. Well, first an apology. I got a little too amused with myself writing this. It's pre-slash

“Ah ha! I have found you!”

Spike knew he’d had a bit to drink the night before, but that didn’t explain why there was a ren-fair reject looking down at him, head haloed with the streaming light of bloody day, and an expression of eager expectation.

Spike blinked against the light, filtered as it was through the dust and cobwebs and the oak that stood near the entrance to his crypt. He managed a very suave, “Wah?”

The smiling face swung out of his vision, and Spike had to sit up (not an easy task as there was an invisible trip-hammer inside his skull, and why the bloody hell did vampires have to get hangovers, anyway?) to see the strange man standing proud, fists on his hips. “Angel did not expect me to track you down so quickly, but I have chased Jaquarelneth beasts through the snows on Inver…”

“Oi!” Spike bent to search the side of the sarcophagus for his pants. “Renfair! I don’t know what Peaches told you, but this isn’t a petting zoo. I’m a very bad vampire and I will… sodding hell where are they?” Spike had to hang almost all the way off the sarcophagus to snag his jeans from where he’d tossed them the night before. He came up, hair tossled and body naked. The old army blanket he used had slipped right off of his legs. “Right. As I was saying. I will rip your lungs out and show them to you for waking me up early.”

The man grinned broadly.

“Wot?”

“You are just as he said. I fear I suspected the champion exaggerated.”

Spike narrowed his eyes, pretty sure the exaggeration wasn’t about his tight, toned body. “Look, uh…”

“Groosalug.”

Spike blinked, both eyebrows raised, but as all he got in response was a warm smile and an extended hand, he had to assume the garbled sound was a name. He stepped into his jeans. “Look, Gargle-bug, vampire, here. If you don’t make with the explanations quick. I…”

“It is ‘Groosalug’. It means ‘the brave undefeated’, but I do not mind your comical rendering of my name. Your threats are charming and well-phrased, however forgive me, I do not fear them. Not that I discount your prowess; Angel informed me that you cannot harm humans.”

Stopped mid-rant, Spike scowled and turned his attention fully to putting on his pants.

Groosalug looked down bashfully, still smiling. “If you know the hardships my human form caused me as a child. But no matter! I am pleased that it has brought me here, to the land of California. And I will do my best to woo you.”

Shrugging into his shirt, Spike stopped, frozen as if slapped. “Hang on a tic. Woo?”

Groo took a step closer. “Angel informed me that you are a most willing and enthusiastic partner. He also implied that it has been a woefully long time since you have enjoyed the com-shuk.”

Spike frowned along moment before saying, “I’m not sure what that is, but I’m positive it’s dirty.”

“No! It is the ritual of joining. As two warriors…” Groo put his hand on Spike’s, which Spike promptly snatched away.

Retreating to the safety of the far side of the room, Spike shook his hand as if he’d gotten something on it. “Look, Renfair, you’re telling me that Angel put you up to this? Sent you here to try and ‘shuck’ or whatever, with me?”

Groo ducked his head bashfully again and spread his hands. “It is a long story, my friend, but I will share it with you, if we are to be joined.”

“Mate, I don’t even know you. There is going to be no fucking… fucking.” When Groo frowned confusedly and looked unlikely to try to initiate more touching, Spike relaxed and went about locating his shirt – bollocks, another one ripped to shreds. The slayer should reimburse his wardrobe.

“Angel, the Champion, informed me that you were… one with whom the com-shuk could be gotten without complication. Like unto a village concubine.” He smiled encouragingly.

Spike dropped the second torn shirt he’d found and glared. “Angel doesn’t even bloody know about….” He checked himself, took a deep breath, smiled his most insincere smile and said, “Angel lied.”

“I have been with the champion for a while, now, we are fellow-warriors!” Groo struck a proud stance. “But when I suggested the joining, he said…”

“Oh, I can imagine what he said.” Spike finally found an intact T-shirt and pulled it on. “I am going to get him for this. Wanker’s getting canny in his old age.”

“I do not understand.”

“Yeah, I’m expecting to hear a lot of that from you. Come on, Grog-lug, we’re going to pay papa a visit.”

Groo stepped in front of Spike as he walked to the hatch to the crypt’s lower level. “You wish to confront Angel. I must tell you, he is my friend. I do not wish to upset him, and I will stop you.”

Spike sagged, rolled his eyes ceilingward, and wondered why the gits in his way always had to be human. Sure, statistically, the odds were in their favor, but this was the hell-mouth.

The Groosalug was starting to talk about his sexual prowess – something bloody disturbing about a bloke in a leather jerkin referencing “Cosmo” – but Spike wasn’t listening. He was forming a plan. As usual, it was a brilliant plan. His smile broadened. “Oi! Romeo! You said you wanted to get it on with Angel, right?”

Groo blushed fetchingly. “It was my princess’ idea. She observed that…”

“Well, then, that’s just great. Look, Goblug..”

“Groosalug.”

“Whatever.” Spike dropped an arm across his shoulders and led him toward the sewer entrance. “Seems your many charms are having an influence on me. But don’t you think it would be even better to go and thank Angel for hooking us up, first? I just know the big guy adores doing good, helping others all selfless-like. When he sees our smiling faces, well, won’t that be worth it?”

Groo seemed to be processing this. Tenatively, with a shy smile, he asked, “Could we not com-shuk first, and then share the glow of our union?”

“Yeeeeeah. Truth is, I’m not quite in the mood yet. But don’t worry, seeing old broody-pants will get a fire going, and then you will get the com-shuking of your wildest dreams.”

That seemed to do the trick, because Renfair obediently followed Spike down through the sewers and into the Desoto with only the occasional grope. Groo was almost innocent about his surreptitious touches, like he didn’t entirely mean to cup the back of Spike’s arse, and the way he looked sideways at him, like a kid who just tried a new trick checking to see if it worked, left Spike too bemused to swat him away.

It wasn’t a short drive, and the Groosalug attempted to “entertain” with “tales of feats and doings of prowess.”

Spike was pulling onto the highway when he realized, “Wait – all this Spenserian babbling you’ve been doing – you’re talking about killing things!”

Groo blinked. “Does it disturb you? I thought, a warrior like myself…”

Spike hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Disturb me?” He laughed, and then had to swerve to avoid swiping the side of a van. “Bloody hell, mate, you’re finally speaking my language!”

Groo gripped the dashboard. “Is this method of your driving an attempt to simulate the thrill of combat?”

Spike decided his best response was to grin maniacally and accelerate, zipping around the moving van and between two semis. He merged into the fast lane only to find a little red Beemer toodling along at a snail’s pace – if snails could go 70 mph – and Spike had to slam the breaks and swerve, cutting off an SUV who layed on his horn long enough that the sound dopplered away behind them.

“I will take that as an affirmative response!” Groosalug said, gripping whatever handholds he could find. There were no seatbelts in the Desoto. Groo grabbed the door-handle and inadvertently opened the door. A rush of light and traffic noise flooded the car for a few flailing seconds, but Groo got the door slammed shut again.

Spike wasn’t angry, but he still barked, “Oi! Let’s not turn the driver to dust! You’ll die before you can mourn me.”

“This is exciting?” It sounded like a question.

Spike licked his teeth. “Consider it foreplay.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is for **shylahmask** who asked:
> 
>  _Not sure if you've ever written Spike/Groosalugg, but that's your challenge from me! (You can add in a little jealous Angel, if you'd like.)_  
>  Also bonus points for Groo being all dom and Spike getting annoyed about it. ;)
> 
> Eest assured, everything you request is there! It is! Mostly after the story ends, but there.


End file.
